


A Broken Man...

by IndigoBloom



Category: Supernatural, Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-07-23 07:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoBloom/pseuds/IndigoBloom
Summary: Alex has been stuck on the side of Blackwood Mountain for her entire life. She was born there, but if she's not careful, her, her half-brothers, the guy she likes, and the rest of her family will die there.





	1. The Blackwood Curse...

“I’ll just be gone for a little bit,” My uncle says to me, picking up his goggles and homemade flamethrower.

I step into a pair of rubber boots, and I follow him to the door.  “But, why do you have to go?” I ask, standing at the door of our cabin.

“Some kids are staying up at the lodge,” he says, and rubs the back of his neck.

“Is it... _ them _ ?” I ask, looking up the mountain, remembering what happened about a year ago.

“Could be,” he says, “Only the Washingtons have access to the Lodge. I’ll talk to you over the Radio,”

I nod, and step back inside, taking the boots off. I sit on the couch by the wood stove, closest to the radio, and continue to read my book.

Then, the howling begins.

“Hey, Alex,” I hear over the radio, “You there?”

“Right here, Uncle Jack,” I say, picking up the receiver, but not looking up from my book.

“The Wendigos are rowdy tonight,” he says.

“Is that what I hear?” I ask, looking out of the window.

“Yep,” He says, “A couple of them figured out how to escape from the Sanitorium. Which means, I need to track them down and put them back,”

“Well,” I say, “Good luck. Call if you need me,”

“I won’t call for a while,” he says, “I’m going into the mines. The radio won’t work down here,”

“Okay,” I say, standing up, putting the receiver back, and walking to the kitchen. I start up a pan of milk for hot cocoa, and I sit in the kitchen, still reading.  I finish making the cocoa, drink it, and stay in the kitchen, reading, until, suddenly, I hear my Uncle whisper-yelling through the radio.

“Alex! Alex, where are you, goddammit?” I can almost sense his panic.

I drop my book instantly, launch over the couch, and grab the receiver.  “I’m here! I’m here,” I say, “What’s up?”

“I need your-CHZHHZ-elp!” The radio message was breaking up, separating words with static.

“Where are you?” I ask.

“Hea-CHZHZHZ-ing towa-CHZ-s the Lodge,” he says.

I grab an extra radio, get on my boots, coat, beanie, and gloves. I grab my welder’s mask and my flame thrower. I just recently finished making it, and I’ve been dying to take it for a test run.  I turn out all lights that I can in the house, but keep some coals smoldering in the wood-stove.  I lock the front door on my way out, and take the shortcut to the mines. From there, I navigate them with ease. I’ve spent most of my childhood on this mountain, so I know this place like the back of my hand.  I get to the lodge, and I hear gunshots from behind it. I pull my mask down, and run around the side of the building. I nearly run into a guy with dirty blonde hair. 

He’s wearing a blood-stained puffy green coat, and he’s holding a shotgun level, facing away from me, at a wendigo.

I look around him, just in time to see my uncle shoot a stream of fire at said wendigo, but the wendigo dodges it. It launches itself at him, and decapitates him.  My heart launches itself into my throat. I growl.  “DOWN!” I yell to the guy in front of me, as I raise the nozzle of my own flame-thrower.

In surprise, the man turns around, sees me, and hits the deck.

I let out a torrent of fire on the wendigo, killing it and charring its body beyond recognition.  I hear more howling coming from the woods around us. I go over to my uncle, take his radio and whatever fuel canisters he has, and walk back over to the blonde man. I grab his arm, and hoist him off the ground.  I nudge him toward the door of the lodge, and he runs to it. I turn around, and jog backwards, warding off any wendigos that come near.

The guy is banging on the door.

“Let us in!” he’s screaming.

A girl with a beanie opens the door.

We rush in, and the girl close the door behind us.


	2. Almost Trusted...

“What happened out there, Chris?” the girl asks.

“He..he’s dead...” The guys mutters.

I follow them into another room, where there are a bunch of other young adults standing around. Not a single one of them is wearing clothes that’s not either bloodstained or dirt-stained.

“Chris, where’s Flamethrower Guy?” another girl says. She has shoulder-length black hair, and is of asian decent. She’s wearing a black coat that has fur around the shoulder area, and a grey sweater.

“What I want to know,” another guy says, “Is who is that?”

He points to me. He has short, dark hair and is wearing an army jacket.

I lift my mask up.  “I’m Alex,” I say, “And that ‘Flamethrower Guy’ was my uncle, Jack Fiddler,”

“I’m Mike,” The man in the army jacket says.

“I’m Ashley,” the girl in the beanie says.

“I’m Emily,” the dark haired girl says.

“I’m Sam,” a blonde girl says. She’s wearing things that I can only describe as running clothes.

“And I’m Chris,” he says, “but I guess you already knew that,”

“Wait,” Emily says, “If you’re a girl, then why is your name Alex? Isn’t that a boy’s name?”

I sigh and roll my eyes.  “It’s short for Alexis,” I say, “Alexis Fiddler. I live with my uncle at the base of the mountain,”

“What happened out there?” Sam asks.

“A wendigo got to him,” I say, nearly growling.

The room goes silent for a few minutes.

Sam turns around, and starts to examine a book on a desk. Emily stands behind her, looking over her shoulder.

“Umm...Em,” Ashley says, who was now standing behind Emily.

“What?” Emily says, turning to Ashley.

“What’s that on your shoulder?” she asks.

Emily puts her hand on her shoulder, right where it meets her neck.

Mike grabs her wrist and pulls her hand off of her shoulder.  “You were bitten,” Mike says.

Ashley begins to sob.

“What?” Emily says, “It’s not like they’re werewolves, right?”

“Yeah, but what if it works like that?” Ashley says.

“Ashley, you’re jumping to conclusions,” Sam says.

“But at least it makes sense!” Ashley screams, “She could turn into one of those things,”

“Umm...guys,” I say, but Mike puts his hand up to silence me.

“I agree with Ashley,” he says “We can’t risk it,” and he raises a pistol, leveling it at Emily.

Chaos ensues, with Emily begging for her life, and Ashley trying to convince Mike to shoot.

_ I’m sick of this, _ I think to myself.  “Guys!” I say, disarming Mike, “That’s not how this works,”

“How do you know?” Ashley says, accusingly.

“I’ve hunted them most of my childhood, and If you read my uncle’s journal,” I motion to it sitting on the table, “You would know that the only way to become a wendigo is to resort to cannibalism, and stay on that diet for a long period of time”

The room goes silent again. I offer the pistol back to Mike, and he snatches it out of my hand.

“I’m going back to the Sanitorium,” he says, “Everyone, stay here in the Safe Room,”

“I don’t need to,” I say to him as he passes me.

“You’re savvy enough to protect them,” he says “so you’re needed here,”

I nod, and he walks away.  I go back to the room to see that Emily is yelling at Ashley. Before I can get between them, Emily slaps her.  “Alright!” I say, shoving them apart, “That’s enough!”

Chris goes over to Ashley, and Emily stands in a corner.

“We should go after Mike,” Sam says, “It’s not safe for anyone to travel alone anymore,”

“Finally,” I say, ”Someone talking sense. He probably doesn’t know that that’s where my uncle trapped all of the wendigos he tracked down,”

Everyone stares at me.

“Come on,” I say, and, grabbing my uncle’s journal, I lead the way out of the basement.  I find an opening into the sewers that connect the lodge to the mines.  “No matter what you hear,” I say to everyone, “Stick together,”

Everyone nods. We start to walk for a little bit, until someone hits me over the head from behind.

I go out like a light.


	3. Lost and Found...

When I wake up, I’m sitting against the wall of the tunnel, wrists and ankles tied together with duct-tape.

My head is pounding, like I was hit in the head with a brick. My side is also burning with pain.

Ashley comes over to me and crouches in front of me.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “we had to. We just don’t fully trust you yet. And, you seem to have cut yourself on your fall,”

I look down at my side, and see a patch of crimson on my shirt.

“Who hit me?” I ask.

“That was Sam. She found a log and hit you over the head,” Ashley shakes her head, “And then we found a door that blocked our way, and a sewer grate. Sam went into the sewers, and Chris, Em, and I wanted to wait until you wake up,”

She then stands up, and backs away.

“We left you your stuff, right next to you,” she says.

I look over to confirm what she says.

She walks away, and meets up with her friends. She glances back at me, and then drops down the sewer grate.

I reach out to my bag, grab a knife, and carefully cut the tape around my wrists, and then cut the tape around my ankles.

“I can’t believe that I got myself into this,” I grumble, picking up my flamethrower and mask, “I just want to get back to the cabin and get a shower,”

I find different tunnels, navigate through the mines, picking my way home. I grumble to myself about how stupid this was, how we should not meddle with the effects of the mountain, when I hear sobbing.

It sounds like a man. I follow the sound, and find a man, sobbing and yelling at nothing. He’s wearing jean overalls and a blue shirt. His hair is dark brown, and I can slightly see a cut on his forehead. He’s crouched in the middle of the cavern we’re in. 

I walk toward him, just as I notice two people approaching from the opposite direction. It’s Sam and Mike.

I ignore them, and kneel in front of the guy. I put my hands on his shoulders.

He snaps out of his apparent mental breakdown, and stares at me, scared and confused, but calm.

“It’s okay,” I say, quietly, “It’s okay. I’m a friend,”

I take my hands of his shoulders, and put my hands out in front of him, palms facing toward him.

He looks at my hands, but then places his hands on mine, then curls his fingers between mine. A slight smile flashes on his face, but then fresh tears rush down his face. He starts to sob again, and falls forward into my shoulder, still holding onto my hands.

“It’s all my fault,” I can hear through his sobs, “I didn’t want them to die. Oh, Hannah, Beth, I miss you,”

“Josh,” Sam says, and he sits up, and turns around.

“Josh, we need to get you out of here,” she says, and tries to get him to his feet, but he squeezes my hands harder.

“I’ll take care of him,” I say, standing up. Josh stands up with me, still staring at me with his forest-green eyes. He reminds me of a lost puppy who found a new master.

I drop one of his hands, but keep hold of the other.

“You guys take care of yourselves,” I say, leading Josh to a familiar tunnel, “I’ll keep him safe,”

“Yeah, but we need to get him back to his family,” Mike says.

“No!” Josh, exclaims, and then he claps his other hand over his mouth, “I don’t want to go back,” he mutters through his hand.

I smile sadly.

“I’ll take him to my cabin, and keep him safe,” I say, looking from Mike to Sam, and back again.

Sam looks up at the ceiling of the cave, hands on her hips, exhaling, bouncing from one foot to the other.

“I have my flame-thrower. I can keep wendigos away,” I say, and I lead Josh further to the tunnel.

“Fine,” Sam says, sighing, “But don’t say I didn’t say we weren’t going to tell rangers where he is,”

Mike raises an eyebrow at her. More like, at what she just said.

I smile, and say, “Good luck. You’re going to need it. You have no idea what you’re up against,”

Sam just nods at me, scowling, and nudges Mike in the opposite direction.

“Come on, Josh,” I say, and I pull him toward the tunnel again. 

He follows me closely, holding onto my left arm with both hands, occasionally muttering.


	4. Safe house...

We get to the cabin with little to no interruptions. I leave Josh at the doorway.

“Lock the door when you’re inside,” I tell him, “I have the key. I just need to go to the shed for some firewood,”

He just nods, and closes the door. I wait outside until I hear one of the bolts slide into place.

I walk behind the cabin, to the old shed. My uncle finished this the day I came to live with him.  The sting of tears fill my eyes. I pause, and close my eyes. I stand there, letting the tears silently flow down my face. I open my eyes, and see little dents in the snow where my tears landed.  I wipe my eyes on the back of my mittens, and continue to the shed. I get my keychain, and I’m about to unlock the door, when I hear a very familiar guttural growl.   I stop in my tracks, careful not to move a single muscle, keeping my movement with breathing minimal.  I turn around as slow as I can, so as to seem still.  I see a wendigo standing right behind me. 

It’s a bit larger than the others I’ve seen. It’s almost pure white, eyes almost milky, and has a strange marking on its right shoulder. Looking at it longer, I notice that it’s a butterfly.

Then, an idea hits me.  “Hannah?” I mutter, still loud enough for it to hear me.

The growling pauses for a moment, but then resumes.

“I’ll take good care of Josh,” I say to her, “I promise. You can count on me,”

She takes two steps closer to me, her face at least an inch and a half away from mine, her hot, stinky breath wafting over me, then she dashes away.

I exhale, turn around, unlock the shed, grab an arm full of logs, lock the shed again, and power-walk back to the cabin.  I unlock the front door, and step inside. I lock the door behind me, and as I turn around, I nearly trip over Josh, who is laying in the middle of the walkway, sobbing. He’s facing away from me.  I take my boots off, and step over him. I put the new logs next to the woodstove, take my coat off, and lay on the floor in front of Josh, facing toward him. My face is about a half foot from his.

He stares at me, still slightly sobbing, a puddle of tears on the floor in front of his face.

“Hey,” I say, and I smile sweetly at him.

His crying calms down, and he still stares at me. He grabs my hands, and holds them tightly.

“It’s okay,” I say to him, “You’re safe now,”

“No,” He says, “I’ll never be safe. They follow me. They’re in here,” he taps one of his temples with my finger.

I knit my eyebrows.  “Well,” I say, “Let’s get you some new clothing, and get you set up to sleep in a sleeping bag in my room,”

He just nods.

I stand up, and pull him to his feet.

His face is still tear stained, but no new tears are present. It’s more of the old tears washing away the grime that was already there.

I take him to the bathroom, and he properly washes his face as I attend my own injuries.  I take my shirt off, knowing that Josh won’t look, and I inspect the gash on my side. It’s starting to scab, but it’s still sore.  I grab a bottle of antiseptic wash and a towel, and I try to rinse it out, but it’s kind of awkward.

Josh grabs the antiseptic wash, and starts to do what I was.

“That looks painful,” he says, “how’d it happen?”

“I cut myself when I fell,” I say, like it’s no big deal.

He sighs, and puts a patch of gauze on the gash. He tapes it down with medical tape.

“Thanks,” I say, “That would have been difficult for me to do by myself,”

“You’re welcome,” he says, “I...try not to be useless, even if all I want to do is cry,”

I smile. Even when he’s mentally broken, he has a sense of humor.  I put my shirt back on, and I grab his hands.  “How about some soup?” I ask him.

He nods his head.

I lead him out to the kitchen, and I start a pot of chicken-noodle-soup.

“How long have you lived with your Uncle?” Josh asks. 

I look up at him, and see that he’s fiddling with a spoon. He’s sitting at the island.

“Ever since my mom died, and my dad left,” I say, trying not to sound angry.

“Oh,” he says.

He’s quiet for a bit.

“What’s it like,” he asks, “Hunting wendigos?”

I stop stirring the soup, trying to force the sounds of inhuman screaming in my head to stop.  “It’s goddamn terrifying,” I say, voice quivering, “You start to forget what’s right and what’s wrong. You forget that they used to be human,”

Josh is silent, obviously noticing that this isn’t something I want to talk about.

Then, suddenly, someone knocks on the door.


	5. Family Reunion...

Josh jumps, and falls backward off the bar-stool he was on. He scampers behind the couch, holding his spoon like a knife, prepared to “defend” himself.

I walk toward the door, grabbing an axe from next to the wood stove on the way.

The person knocks again.

“Who the hell could that be?” I mutter.  I unlock the door, and swing the door open, gripping the axe to strike.

Two surprised men shrink away from the door for a moment, both of them putting their hands up in defense.  “Um…” the one closest to the door says, “hi,”

He has short, dirty blonde hair, and dark green eyes. He’s wearing a black coat, blue flannel, black t-shirt, good boots, and dark blue jeans.

The man behind him has longer hair, of the same color. He has...blue? Dark blue eyes? I can’t see them that well. He’s wearing a green-grey coat, blue and white plaid flannel, lighter jeans, and good boots.

“Who the hell are you?” I ask, hefting the axe onto my shoulder.

“Uumm…” the first guy says, “I’m Dean, and this is my brother Sam,”

Sam waves slightly.  “We, uh, parked at a gate, about halfway up the mountain,” Sam says, “and we, um, followed a path, and found a Lodge-”

“You hiked up to the Lodge?” I ask.

“Well, what was left of it,” Dean mutters.

“So you two,” I say, “hiked in the woods of Alberta, Canada, in late November, in the middle of the night?”

“That just about sums it up,” Dean says.

“Are either of you armed?” I ask.

“I have a knife and a handgun,” Dean says.

“I have just a handgun,” Sam says.

I raise an eyebrow.  “No flare-gun?” I ask, “Not even a lighter and a can of aerosol spray?”

Dean looks at me like I’m crazy.  “Why would we need those?” he asks.

“You’re hunters, right?” I ask.

Dean looks thunderstruck, while Sam nods slightly.

“Well, don’t you know what’s on this mountain?” I ask.  I see some movement from behind Dean.

“No,” he says, “we don’t,”

I’m frozen still, as I stare down the creature creeping up on them.  “Don’t move,” I say to Dean in barely a whisper, “Don’t…fucking…move,”

Sam stares at me, eyes open wide, frozen in place.

Dean starts to turn around.

“Don’t!” I say.

He stops, staring at me.

“When I say go, run to the opposite wall of the house,” I say, “I’ll slam and lock the door,”

Both Dean and Sam nod at the same time.

“Three…two…one…GO!” I say.

They run into the cabin, and I slam the door, just in time to stop Hannah from running into the house.

I lock all five of the locks on the door.

Hannah claws at the door and roars. The door bulges with her weight.

“It’s okay, Hannah!” I yell, “He’s safe!”

“Hannah?” Josh says.  He walks up behind me, and looks at the door.

Hannah stops, and stares at Josh. 

Josh starts to sob again. He rushes at the door, and tries to open it.

“No! Josh!” I yell. I grab him around his shoulders, and pull him away from the door.

“Hannah!” he sobs, “No! Hannah! I’m sorry!”

I pull him to the couch, and sit him down.

He curls up onto the couch, and starts to sob.

Sam’s sitting on the other couch, staring at Josh, a look of both sympathy and confusion displayed clearly in his eyes.

“It’s fine,” I say to Sam, “it’s a long story,”.  I get up, and get a bowl of Chicken-Noodle-Soup. I sit Josh up, and hand it to him.  “Everything will be okay, alright?” I say to him.

He wipes his eyes on his sleeves, and starts to eat.

“So,” Dean says, leaning against the fridge, “tell us,”

“Tell you what, my life’s story?” I ask.

“Well, you’re a hunter too,” Sam says.

My hand instantly goes to the charm around my neck. The anti-possession charm my dad gave me.  “Well,” I say to him, “aren’t you perceptive?”

Sam chuckles.

“I got it from my dad,” I say, anger rising in my chest, “he gave it to me the day he left. The day that bastard left his bastard daughter on the side of a mountain to live with her uncle,”

Sam nods. 

Dean’s staring at me like he wants to say something, but can’t think of what to say.

“The only hint of who he was,” I say, “is inscribed on the back of this charm. His initials. JW,”

Sam’s eyes open a bit wider.  “Do you remember his name?” Sam asks.

I hear the sound of running water. I look out to the kitchen to see that Dean had gotten a glass of water.  “I don’t want to say it,” I say, “It’s like swallowing a mouthful of vinegar, saying that man’s name,”

“It can’t be that bad,” Dean says.

“You’d think the same thing if he was your dad,” I say, glaring at him.

“I don’t think he could be as bad as our dad,” Sam admits.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” I mutter.  I weigh the options. Do I really want to dredge out the memories of that man? Just for two strangers? And why is Sam so interested?  I clear my throat, and I strain to bring myself to saying the two dreaded words.  “John,” I say, “John Winchester,”

Dean spits out the water he was just drinking.

Sam nearly falls off the couch.

Josh is now staring at us, like we’re his favorite television program.

“Well,” Sam says, standing up, “Time for re-introductions,”.  He stands in front of me, and extends his hand.  “I’m Sam Winchester,” he says, “John’s...second son,”

I stand up, and shake it.  “Alexis. Alexis Mary Fiddler,” I say, “His bastard daughter,”.  I look at Dean, and he’s just staring at me, like he doesn’t know what to think. His eyebrows are scrunched together in confusion. 

“And that’s Dean Winchester, my older brother,” Sam says.

Dean puts down his glass, and continues to stare at me.  “Wait,” he says, “What?”

“She’s our half-sister, Dean” Sam says, like he’s explaining to  a two year old.

I wave at him, and he just...stares.

“She’s not the first, Dean,” Sam says.

“Yeah, but... ” Dean says back, “...Canada? He went to _Canada_ without us knowing?”

I feel a little weird. I have brothers? I always knew that Dad slept around. He would go missing for weeks at a time.

“But, anyway,” Sam says, “You asked us if we knew what was on this mountain, and a few seconds later, we’re attacked. I’m guessing that was a wendigo?”

I nod.  “The Alpha wendigo,” I say, “She was once his sister,” I nod to Josh.

Sam takes a sharp breath, and his eyes flick to Josh.

“But, why did it only attack when we ran?” Dean asks.

“It’s how they see things,” I say, “Like how we see color, and snakes see heat. They see movement, so it’s useless to run from them. The only way to not draw attention to yourself around them is to not move a muscle,”

Sam nods. He’s sitting on the couch again, fingertips pressed together, fore-fingers resting on his lips.

I sit down again, next to Josh. He leans his head on my shoulder, and grabs my hand.

“How long have you two known each other?” Deans asks me, referring to me and Josh.

I laugh.  “Actually, we just met tonight,” I say.

Sam raises an eyebrow.

“He was…lost,” I say, “and…um…broken. He just…”

“I feel safe around her,” Josh says, gripping my hand tighter, “I can’t explain it, but I just…do,”

Sam just stares at us, eyes flicking from me to Josh and back.  “So,” he says, “Your middle name is ‘Mary’?”

Dean sits down next to him, and just stares at me.

“Yeah,” I say, “What of it?”

“That was  _ our _ mom’s name,” Dean says.

I open my eyes wider.  “Oh,” I say.  _ He named me after one of his wives? _ I think to myself,  _ Why would he do that, unless… _ “Did…” I choke out, “did she…”

“Die?” Sam finishes for me.

I nod.

“Yeah,” he says, “A demon killed her. That’s what started Dad as a hunter,”

I nod again.

“How did your mom die?” Josh whispers to me.

“She...she was killed by a wendigo,” I say, “During a family picnic, we were attacked. She died, and Dad shoved me into a hollow tree before it could get to me. Then, he killed it using the way I mentioned before. Aerosol spray and a lighter,”

“So, fire does work?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, it does,” I say, “How did you know that?”

Sam takes out a ragged old note-book, stuffed with other loose papers.

“Dad wrote about it,” he says, opening it up to a page about wendigos.

I laugh.

“What?” Sam asks.

I take out my Uncle’s journal.  “This is…eh, was my Uncle’s journal,” I say, “It has everything that he ever knew about wendigos,”

Sam picks it up, and leafs through it.  “Wow,” he says, “well, I’m sorry for your loss,”

I nod, and feel tears about to fall.

Josh, wanting to comfort me, puts his arm around me, and pulls me close to him.

I bury my face into his shoulder. I don’t sob, though. I just let the tears flow.

Dean clears his throat, and I sit up, wiping my eyes.

“Sorry, I…I just…” I start, “I saw him die. He actually died tonight. He was decapitated by a wendigo,”.  I glance at Sam, and one of his hands is over his mouth, eyes full of tears.  “It’s fine though,” I say, standing up, “All I need to do is continue what he had been doing. Trapping all of the wendigos on the mountain,”

Sam stares at me in amazement.  “He found a way to trap them?” he gasps.

“Yep,” I say, “but that’s usually where I help. It’s more of a two person job,”

Dean nods and frowns, almost as if he’s pretending to understand.

“But, that’ll be difficult now,” I continue, “Since it’ll be only me,”

“It doesn’t have to be just you here,” Josh says.

I look over at him, and his eyes go from me to the floor, and his cheeks turn scarlet.

“I mean…uh…I…I could stay around for a bit,” he mutters.

I chuckle, and hug him.  “That’d be great!” I say, “I could teach you the ropes of the Mountain!”.  I can hear Sam chuckle, and Dean groan.

“No more chick-flick stuff,” he moans, “it’s getting sickening,”

I chuckle a bit, which starts Josh, which starts Sam. We all, except Dean, sit there, laughing.


	6. The Next Morning...

“How can you stand this noise?” Sam says to me as we walk down a hall in a prison block in the Sanitarium.

“I…tolerate it,” I say, adjusting my beanie and putting on my welding mask, but not putting it down.

“But…how?” he asks again, wincing as a wendigo lets out a very feral screech.

“I’ve lived around it almost my entire life,” I say, grabbing my mask to put it down, “But, even if I’m around it everyday, I still hear it as I go to sleep. It tortures me. And it melds with the memory of the day my mom was killed, so the screeches become more human,”.  I put my mask down, just in time to hide my tears. I’ve cried too much already, and I need to be here for Josh, in case he can’t handle it.  “Josh and Dean should be here soon,” I say, my voice echoing off the inside of my mask and back into my ears, “Are you sure Dean knows what he’s doing?”

“I’m  _ fairly _ sure,” Sam admits, “And I know for a fact that he’s a good hunter,”

“That doesn’t count for shit here,” I say, “If your a good hunter in a town, you’re passable on this mountain,”

Sam looks at me, now slightly worried, when Josh and Dean rush into the hall, a wendigo hot on their tails.

“Sam!” Dean yells.

“Alex!” Josh yells, terror in his voice.

“Just run into the last cell!” I yell back, keeping completely still otherwise.

Sam is across the hall from me, staying still as well.

Dean and Josh run past us, the wendigo still chasing them.  “The tape square,” I hear Josh say, “stand on the tape square!”

Sam then reaches up to a lever as I inch my way over to the cell.

“Now!” I yell at Sam, and he throws the lever.

Dean and Josh fall through the trap-door they were standing on.

I stand in front of the door to the cell, facing the wendigo.

It growls at me, and crouches down for a pounce.

“Not today,” I mutter, and let out a torrent of flame, keeping it in the cell.  I hear Sam throw the other switch, and the door on the cell closes. As soon as I hear the lock clunk, I stop my flame-thrower.  I let out a sigh, and put up my mask.

The door from the other end of the hall opens, and Dean and Josh walk up to me and Sam, both of them smiling like fools.

“That was awesome,” Dean says, “Dangerous, but awesome,”

“Yeah,” I say, “I was usually in your place, and my uncle in mine and Sam’s. He would do both of our jobs,”

Sam looks at me, amazed, and nods.

“Well,” Dean says, “that’s one wendigo caught. How many more are there?”

“Other than Hannah,” I answer, “three. Then, after a bit more preparation, and possibly some training for Josh, we could try to go after her,”

“Why not treat her like the other wendigos?” Sam asks.

“Because she’s  _ not _ like the others,” I say, “she’s the head wendigo, like the chief. We won’t be holding her here. At least, not in this hall. And she’s too smart to fall for our tricks,”

Sam nods.

“Okay, Sam’s turn,” I say, “Go into the woods, walk around until one finds you, and then run straight here. Remember the maneuvers we went over?”

“Yep,” he says, “and Josh will be with me, so…”

I smile and nod.

Josh comes over to me and hugs me. He looks like a little kid, wearing a spare coat of my uncles, a pair of Sam’s jeans, and one of Sam’s flannels. All are too big for him.

I stand there, surprised by the hug.

“Just to make me feel better,” Josh says, pulling away.

I smile at him, and he smiles back.

Sam pulls the shoulder of his coat, and they leave the hall, talking as they start to walk.

“So,” Dean asks, “what am I supposed to do?”

I take him through which levers to pull, and where to stand.  I walk into an empty cell, and kneel on the ground, knocking, trying to find the trap-door.  “So,” I say to Dean, “You’ve spent a lot of time with John?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“How is the bastard?” I ask.

There’s a pause. A long pause.

I find the hollow spot, and as I sit up to grab tape, I look back at Dean.

He looks like John did when Mom died. Wanting to cry, but being too “manly” to actually let himself.

“What?” I ask, “What happened?”

“He’s…he’s dead,” Dean mutters.

My heart sinks. He may have left me on the side of a God Forsaken mountain, but he was my father. My eyes fill with tears as well, but I wipe them.  I turn back to the trap door.

“Pull the first lever,” I say to Dean.

He does, and the trap door opens. I rim the hole with the bright yellow tape.

“Close it,” I say.

Dean does, and I stand up, and walk out of the cell.

“How?” I ask him.

“What?” he says.

“How did J-…Dad…How did Dad die?”

Dean clenches his jaw.  “Sold his soul,” he says, “I was almost dead, and he sold his soul to bring me back,”

My heart sinks. I reach into my coat pocket, take out my wallet, and take out a hidden picture of my father. It was years ago, but he still looks like he did five years ago.  “Well,” I said, “at least he cared for  _ some _ of his flesh and blood,”

Dean walks up to me, and puts his hand on my shoulder.  “I don’t know why he left,” Dean says, “so I’m not going to make up excuses for the man. But, I’m sure he loved you, like he loved me and Sam. He was just a…complicated man, that much I can say,”

I look at Dean and smile.

“Thanks,” I say, “I just…hate myself now,”

“Why?” he asks.

“The last time we saw each-other, we argued,” I say, and I turn away, leaving the conversation there.

He nods, and goes back to the levers.

**#**

“…and then, when I open the locker, Dean screams like a little girl!” Sam says, “But it was just a cat!”

He Josh and I start laughing, while Dean is lightly chuckling with an embarrassed look on his face.

“Well,” Dean says, “I was under the influence of…what was it called, Ghost Sickness or something?”

I’m still giggling, leaning on Josh to make sure I don’t fall off of the bar stool I’m on.  We’re all sitting around the island eating grilled-cheese sandwiches. Josh has his mouth covered, and his eyes are squeezed shut, trying to stop himself laughing.

“I don’t blame you for being embarrassed, Dean,” I say, finally giggle free, “I had an experience kind of like that when I was…ten? Yeah, I think,”

Dean raises an eyebrow at me.

“The story won’t be as funny as yours, though. More sad,” I say, ”But anyway, me and my uncle were out collecting wood, seeing as it was winter, when I see a little log under a bush. I remember thinking, ‘Oh! It’s already cut!’ I pick it up, and turn it over in my hand, probably checking for salamanders or something of the like, when I see that a little face had been carved into it, like a part of a totem pole. I look at it, and I get an image in my mind’s eye, almost like a dream. It’s my uncle, and a wendigo. As quick as a flash, the wendigo grabs my uncle’s neck, and rips his head off,”.  I pause, staring at the counter. I clench my fist as tears drip onto my lap.

Josh grabs my shoulder. I lean my head on his hand.

“I was so scared by what I saw, that I dropped the totem and ran to find my uncle. I used any means I could to make sure that we didn’t go hunting. I made myself puke, force insomnia, hunger strike, everything. Eventually, he dragged me, kicking and screaming to the Sanitorium to get me to stop acting like that. I was so scared that the first wendigo that jumped at me from behind bars sent me running. I ran so fast, and I was crying so much that I couldn’t see where I was going. I tripped over a brick at the edge of a flight of stares and tumbled all the way down. I fractured my right femur and broke almost all bones in my left foot. I  _ still _ can’t run right. I was crumpled in a shivering, crying mess at the bottom of those stairs when my uncle found me. ‘What were you thinking, Alex?’ he said to me, ‘you know they can’t get to you,’. I remember looking in his eyes and seeing the vision again. ‘Because,’ I whimpered, ‘I was scared. Scared that you were going to get hurt,’. He shook his head at that. ‘Well you got hurt instead,’ he said, ‘whatever would give you the notion that I was going to get hurt?’. I hesitated for a second, but told him about the totem and what I saw. And then, and I’ll never forget this for as long as I live, I saw something. I saw a look in his eyes that I had only seen two other times,”.  I stop again, composing myself.

“What did you see?” Sam asks.

“Fear.  _ Terror. _ My uncle was terrified. He now knew how he was going to die. The only other time before that when I saw him look truly terrified was when Mom died. And then, I saw that look again…the night he died. The night the vision came true. After that, he carried me home, and never left the house until my legs got better, except to get wood from the shed,”.  After I finish, the room goes quiet.

Josh puts one of his arms around my shoulders.

I grab my grilled-cheese sandwich and continue to eat, tears still running down my face.

“I know what it’s like seeing someone you love dying multiple times,” Sam says, “even if for you it was with a vision first. I was stuck in a time loop. Every day, if I did something different than the day previous, Dean would die in a different, more gruesome, way,”

I nod, looking up at Sam, and then at Dean.  “So,” I say, “I want to ask you guys something,”

“Yeah?” Sam says.

“Shoot,” Dean says.

“How would you two like to meet the rest of the Fiddler family?” I ask, “And you can come as well, Josh,”

Sam’s face lights up, and Dean looks surprised. Josh nods excitedly.

“But I have to warn you,” I say, “My family is kind of...eccentric. You’ll see what we do to honor fallen family members, and what we do for Christmas,”

“As long as they don’t honor Satan,” Dean says, “We’ll be fine,”

I nod.  “Alright,” I say, “We leave tomorrow. We’ll hike down the mountain, and I’ll bring my flamethrower, in case Hannah shows up,”

“Wait,” Sam says, “Why are we hiking down?”

“No car would be able to make it through this snow,” I say, “and my family’s cabin is kind of hidden in the woods. I mean, we could drive as far as we can, and then hike the rest of the way,”

“That seems like a better idea,” Dean says.

“Alright,” I say, “Are we in agreement?”.  I look around at all of them.

They all nod.

“Alright, but we still leave tomorrow,” I say.

I stand up, and go to my room. I grab the wood carvings I’ve been working on, wrap both of them in newspaper, and put them in my backpack.

There’s a light knock on my door. I wipe my eyes, getting rid of the tears that are trying to escape.

“Come in,” I say.

Josh opens the door and walks up to me. He looks guilty, but also like he wants to tell me something. His hands are behind his back.

“What’s up?” I ask.

He takes my laptop out from behind his back, and lowers his head.  “I read your emails,” he mutters, “between you and my parents,”

My chest sinks, wondering how much he hates me now.

“I…I’m thankful,” he says, “for your reason for keeping me around. I’m glad you fought to keep me from that psychiatrist that only filled me with meds instead of actually helping. Do you really have a degree in psychology?”

I nod.  “Yeah,” I say, “And forensics, and Cryptozoology,”

He hands me my laptop, and I take it, along with one of his hands. I pull him closer to me, and hug him.  He hesitates for a second, and then hugs me back.  We stand there for a second, me being happy that he understands and doesn’t hate me. I let go of him, and I place my laptop on my desk. I go over to my bed, and sit at the edge.

Josh goes over to his sleeping bag, and lays down. He’s been sleeping in a back corner of my room for the duration of the time he’s been here, because he says he’s afraid to be alone. I don’t blame him. He’s been through a lot.

I lay down on my bed, and stare up at the ceiling. I wonder how much things may have changed at the house. How old is Milo now? Twelve? Wow. So Jenny’s seven. I haven’t seen them for three years. The last few years they haven’t been able to come to the Cabin, due to the major snowy weather at their home in Lethbridge. They have to drive a while to get here, but it’s worth it, the years that than can be there. Most years, it was just me, Uncle Jack, Oma, and Opa. Now Josh, Sam and Dean will be there too. I close my eyes, looking forward to spending Christmas and New Years with my family.


	7. Chapter 7

“Are you sure we’re even going to be able to get to your car?” I ask Dean as I look out the front window, “It snowed a lot last night,”

“We should,” he says, “Either that, or we’ll go back to plan A,”

“Can’t we go through the mines?” Sam asks, “It would take us up to the Lodge, and then we can take the path down to the road,”

I think for a second, tilting my head from side to side. “Well,” I say, “Let’s hope the path to the mines is walkable,”

“But…” Josh says, finishing up lacing his snow boots, “what about Hannah? Isn’t she still out there?”

“I’ll have my flame-thrower,” I say, “She may be smarter than the others, but she’s still afraid of fire,”

I put on my mittens, and I unlock all of the locks on the inside, and I pull on the doorknob. The door doesn’t budge. “Oh, dammit!” I mutter, “It must be frozen from the outside…”

There’s a slight silence

“Do you have any spray deodorant?” Josh asks.

“Uh…I think, maybe,” I say, “Check in the bathroom,”

He nods, and leaves the room. He returns with a spray can and a box of matches.

I raise my eyebrows as I watch him start to spray the deodorant on the handle, and then he puts a lit match in front of the nozzle, making an impromptu flame-thrower.

“What are you doing, kid?” Dean asks.

“I…well my friend Chris had to unstick the lodge’s door like this yesterday,” he says, stopping the fire coming from the can, “the doorknob is very conductive, so it melts what ice is on the other side,”

He quickly grabs and opens the door, but pulls his hand away and shakes it, hissing slightly in pain.

I grab his wrist, and pull him outside. I grab a hand full of snow, and hand it to him. “That will help if you burned your hands,” I say.

He smiles at me.

Sam and Dean walk past us, and Dean scans around. “The woods looks clear,” he says, and then he turns to me. “Should we get going?”

I turn around and close the front door, and lock everything. I slam my shoulder into the door a few times, just to test the strength of the door. “Okay,” I mutter, “That should be good,”

“It can hold up against Hannah?” Sam asks.

“It did a few nights ago,” I say, “But she’ll mainly be after us,”

He nods, but his face seems to have gone pale. He walks over to Dean, and they start conversing in whispers.

I start to walk into the woods, where I know there’s a path. “Come on!” I call behind me, “We’re losing daylight!”

Josh is the first one to follow me, and he’s holding a shotgun. He’s scanning the woods around us, almost terrified, almost expectant.

Sam is behind him, holding a handgun, staring straight ahead.

Dean pulls up the back, walking backwards, holding a handgun as well.

I lead all of us through the forest to the Mines, and through the mines to the Lodge. I’m awestruck by what I’m greeted by. The entire Lodge is in ruins, like it was blown up from the inside. “What…what happened?” I mutter. I turn to Sam and Dean.

“We don’t know,” Sam says, “We found it like this,”

I just nod. “The path should still be here, though,”. I turn to Josh, and I find him on his knees in the snow. His face is frozen in a look of utter shock and horror. He picks up something from in front of him, and holds it gingerly in his hands. “How many summer and skiing vacations…” I can hear him mutter, “…everything is…is…gone…”. Tears start to drip from his eyes.

I kneel down next to him, and grab one of his wrists. I glance down at what he’s holding, and it’s a picture of him and his sisters. They all look so happy. I look at him, and I wipe tears off of his cheeks with my gloves. “Hey,” I say, “It’s okay. I’m here for you, Josh,”

He smiles slightly and nods, looking at me. “Thank you,” he says, “I…I’m sorry if I’m holding us up,”. He stands up, and he nearly puts the photo back on the ground.

I stop him before he drops the photo. “Keep it,” I say.

He stares at me for a second, and then nods, and he gingerly puts the photo in his pocket.

“I have the key to the cable car station,” he says, “We’ll need to use it to get to the bottom of the mountain,”

“Funny,” Dean says, “we couldn’t find a cable-car station,”

“Yeah,” Sam says, “We had to hike through a ravine. We were nearly trampled by elk,”

I chuckle. “Yeah,” I say, “That can happen. We need to get going, though,”

Everyone nods, and we head down the path toward the Cable-Car station. When we get there, Josh unlocks the door, and he goes into the station.

“Let’s see if we can get it working after that storm,” he mutters, looking at a panel of buttons and switches.

I stand at the door, watching him, and Sam is standing out on the porch. I turn around to see Dean pacing a little bit away, hand to his ear, talking to someone.

“How in the hell did he get reception up here?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Sam says, “but as soon as he had even one bar, he instantly dialed Bobby. I think he’s yelling at him for not telling us about you,”

I smile slightly. “Yeah,” I say, “Bobby, my uncle, Mom, and…Dad, were good friends. He was like a second Uncle to me,”

“So…who all is in your family?” Sam asks, “I know there was your mom, and her brother, who was your uncle,”

“Then there’s Oma and Opa, my grandparents,” I say, “And my Aunt and her family,”

Sam nods. “And we’re going to get to meet them?” he asks, quietly.

“Yes,” I say, “If my aunt and her family can make it,”

Sam nods.

There’s a loud whirring sound from behind us.

“Ha!” I can hear Josh shout, “I did it!”

I smile, and Sam chuckles. Dean says goodbye to whoever he had called, and walks up to us.

“Okay,” I say, “Let’s go,”

\---

We pull into the start of a driveway, but the rest is covered in snow. There are fresh tracks through it, but Dean’s car won’t be able to make it through.

“I’ll call my aunt to see if she’s here yet,” I say, taking out my phone, “She can pick us up in one of the Snowcats,”. I step out of the car, and dial my aunt Steph.

“Hello?” she says.

“Hi, Aunt Steph,” I say, “I…uh…I need you to come pick me and some people up at the start of the driveway,”

“Why didn’t you just hike here, like usual?” she asks.

“I…I’ll explain later,” I say, “Just…please, come pick us up,”

There’s a long pause. “Sure,” she says, “Just…stay where you are,”

“Okay,” I say, “Thanks,”. I get back into Dean’s car, and everyone stares at me. “My Aunt is coming to pick us up,” I say, “we just need to wait here,”

Dean nods. Sam slightly smiles, but he looks mildly terrified. Josh scootches closer to me, grabs my hand, and leans his head on my shoulder.

We sit in the car for almost a half hour, when, from outside the car, I hear the familiar engine rumble of a SnowMobile.

“That’s Steph,” I say, getting out of the car. I step into the breezy, cold day, being blinded by snow, as the SnowMobile stops. 

My Aunt climbs out of it, and I walk up to her. She stands in front of me, and crosses her arms. 

I try to keep a stern face as I raise an eyebrow, and I put my hands on my hips.

“Alex,” she says, cracking a small smile.

“Steph,” I say. I can’t help it. I start to chuckle.

She starts to laugh as well, and we hug as we start laughing. “It’s so good to see you!” she says.

As we stand up again, I look at her, trying to see if anything is different. Her raven black hair is tied up in a bun, and she has a hand knitted ear wrap on. As she shifts from one foot to the other, I can see a red tinge in her hair.

“You dyed your hair,” I say, smiling slightly.

“I did. I just added dark red over the black in my hair,” she says, touching her bun, “Do you like it?”

“It looks like congealed blood,” I state, dryly.

“Wow,” Dean says, walking up from behind me, “You  _ really  _ need to work on your social skills,”

“I really don’t mind,” Steph says, “It’s just how Alex speaks. She  _ was _ born and raised on the mountain, and has never had much human interaction,”

“Wait,” Sam says, now on my right side, “she’s never been off of the mountain before?”

“No,” I say, “I’ve never seen a reason why,”

Both Sam and Dean look at me weirdly, and then they look at each other.

“So, who are you two?” Steph asks.

“I’ll explain when we get to the house,” I say, “Let’s just…go, okay? I’m getting cold,”

Steph just nods at me, and we all get into the SnowMobile. Steph is driving, Dean is sitting in the front, and Sam, Josh, and I are sitting on the back, facing the start of the driveway. As we drive down the drive, Josh grabs my hand, and holds it tightly. I look over at him, and he looks terrified, staring at the start of the drive.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He just points to where he’s looking.

I look, and a human-like form is standing at the end of the driveway. It’s arms and legs are so much longer than what a human normally has. My heart sinks as I realize how much danger we are all in right now.

“Sam,” I say, “Do you still have your handgun?”

“I see her too,” he says, “She doesn’t seem to want to hurt us,”

“I know. It’s weird,” I say, “Wendigos are driven by hunger. She could catch up to us right now, if she wanted to,”

“But she doesn’t,” Josh says, “I think the human in her is getting her to follow us. She wants to see me,”

I just glance at Josh, and there’s some strange form of grim determination on his face.

“Hey,” I say, nudging him, “don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

He just looks at me, and nods.


	8. The Fiddler Family

“Alex!” my little cousins yell as I walk up to the front porch. They both tackle-hug me, nearly knocking me backwards into the snow.

“Woah!” I exclaim, “Wow, Peter, Jenny, you’ve gotten so big!”

“Thank you!” Jenny says, “I’m almost as tall as Peter!”

“Are not!” Peter says, defensively, “You just like standing on your tippy-toes,”

“I do not!” Jenny says, stomping her foot, “I  _ am  _ getting taller,”

“I believe you,” I say, “So, are you ready for Christmas?”

“Yeah!” Jenny says, “We can have snowball fights, and go sledding, and play out in the snow!”

I glance at Steph for a second. “We’ll see,” I say.

Peter just stares at me for a second, maybe sensing that something’s wrong. “Where’s Uncle Jack?” he asks, “And who are the people you brought with you?”

I sigh. “Let’s go inside,” I say, quietly.

“But…” Peter starts.

“Inside, Peter,” I say, sternly.

He just sighs and nods. He takes Jenny by the shoulder and pulls her inside.

I follow them, and nod to Dean, Sam and Josh to follow me. I lead them into the house, and into the living room, where Oma and Opa are sitting on one of the couches.

Oma’s face brightens when she sees me. “Alexis!” she says.

I walk over to her and hug her, and kiss her on her cheek. I hug Opa as well.

“Where’s Jack?” Opa asks.

I sigh, good feeling gone. I hang my head. “He’s with mom now…” I say.

Oma gasps, and she puts her hands to her mouth.

Opa sighs. “Were you…?” he starts

“…there?” I finish. I nod in answer.

He sighs again.

I set down my backpack, and I take out one of the wood carvings, the one I’ve made in likeness to my Uncle, and I show it to Opa.

He nods, and takes it. He kisses it, and whispers “Goodbye, son,”. He passes it to Oma.

She kisses it. “Rest in peace, my dear,” she mutters.

Aunt Steph takes the figure and kisses it. “Goodbye, Jack,”. She then hands it to me.

I kiss the figurine. “Goodbye, Uncle Jack,”. I walk over to the shelf above the fireplace, and place him next to my mother’s figure.

“Now, who are these gentlemen?” Opa asks, gesturing to Sam, Dean, and Josh.

“This is Dean and Sam,” I say.

They walk up beside me, Dean on my right, Sam on my left.

“They’re my half brothers,” I say, “John’s sons,”

Opa just nods. “Hunters?” he asks.

“Yep,” Dean says, “But your family’s knowledge of Wendigos is incredible,”

Opa nods.

Dean and Sam step back again.

“And this,” I say, reaching back and taking Josh’s hand, “Is Josh Washington, my…boyfriend,”

Josh stares at me for a second, but then smiles.

“Washington?” Opa says, “He’s one of those fools who built a ski lodge on the top of this cursed mountain?”

“The son of those fools, actually,” Josh says, “I didn’t choose to build the lodge here. If my father had known what was going on here, and what would have happened to me and my sisters if he built here, than I’m sure he wouldn’t have,”

Opa raises his eyebrows slightly. “He’s got spunk,” he mutters, eyes flicking to me, “I can see why you like him,”

I can feel myself blushing, and I laugh nervously.

“Welcome, Dean, Sam, Josh,” Opa says, slightly smiling, “ _ Fröhliche Weihnachten!” _

“ _ Danke schön, _ ” Sam says, smiling.

Dean looks from Sam to Opa, confused. “What?” he asks.

“Opa said ‘Merry Christmas’,” I say, “Then Sam said, ‘Thank you very much’,”

Dean just nods, still looking mildly confused.

I look back down at my backpack, and I can see the other newspaper wrapped bundle. “Dean, Sam?” I say.

“Yeah?” Sam says.

I pick up the bundle. I unwrap it to reveal a carved wooden figure of our Dad. “Do you want to say goodbye?” I ask them.

Dean stares at the figurine for a minute.

Sam blinks rapidly, looking at the figure, then me, then the figure, then me.

“You three can say goodbye,” Opa says, “but only you three. And I will allow him to be on the family shelf,”

“Can I put him next to mom?” I ask.

Opa mutters something in German. “Fine,” he says, “but opposite to Jack,”

I nod. I turn back to Dean and Sam, and I look from one to the other.

“Okay,” Dean says, quietly.

Sam nods, silent.

I smile in thanks. I hand the figure to Sam, who stares at me for a second. “You kiss the figure, then say a goodbye,” I say.

He nods, and looks at the figure. He lightly kisses it, and mutters, “Rest in peace, Dad,”. He hands the figure to Dean, eyes welling up with tears.

Dean stares at the figure for a second. He lightly kisses it, and says, “Thank you, Dad. See you on the other side,”. He hands the figure to me.

I take the figure, and I lightly kiss it. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I mutter to it, “I love you…”. I place it on the shelf above the hearth, next to my mother’s figure.

“Now,” Opa says to me, “We have three guest rooms. Two are connected to each other. Dean, Sam, do you want those ones?”

Dean looks taken aback. “Er…sure,” he says.

“Sounds fine,” Sam says.

“The third one can be for you and Josh, Alex,” Opa says, turning to me.

I nod, realizing that he thinks Josh and I sleep together. In the same bed. Just the thought of that makes me feel both happy and uncomfortable at the same time.

Josh grabs my hand, and he holds it tightly.

“Alright,” Opa says, “since you’ve arrived after dinner, you can go settle into your rooms. See you tomorrow morning, Alex,”

“See you tomorrow, Opa,” I say. I turn to Dean and Sam. “I’ll lead you guys to the guest rooms,”

They nod at me, and I lead them to a side hall of the house. Dean and Sam’s rooms are on the left-hand side of the hall, separated by a bathroom, which both rooms are connected to. Mine and Josh’s room is on the right, with an adjacent bathroom as well.

Still holding Josh’s hand, I walk into our room.

Josh closes the door behind him, then pulls me to him, holding me close, face nuzzled into my neck. He holds me around my waist, hugging me tight.

I pause for a second, wondering if I’m only dreaming, but then I wrap my arms around his neck, resting my forehead on his shoulder.

“Why did you say that?” he asks me, “Why did you say that I’m your boyfriend?”

“Is that not what you are?” I ask, “Or are you just that oblivious to how I feel for you?”

Josh laughs slightly. “You do kind of have emotional walls,” he says, “for certain people,”

“Not for you,” I say, “or Sam, or Dean. I’ve been completely open with all of you,”

Josh sighs. He stands up straight, and kisses me lightly on the forehead, still holding me around my waist. “Where would I be without you?” he mutters.

“Dead,” I say, “Or worse,”

“What’s worse than death?” he asks.

“Hannah,” I say, “What happened to Hannah is worse than death,”

He scrunches his eyebrows.

I gently break out of his embrace, and I take off my coat and boots. I hang the coat by the door, and put my boots underneath it. Facing away from Josh, I take my sweater and socks off, and put them in the laundry basket in the corner of the room. I see Josh staring at me, and I can feel myself blush. I take off my jeans, so I’m standing in only a t-shirt and a pair of leggings. I lift the covers off of the bed, and get under them, scooting close to the wall.

Josh takes off his coat, boots, flannel, socks and jeans, so he’s only in a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of boxers. He gets into the bed next to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder.

I wrap my arms around him, and I slowly close my eyes, drifting off to sleep.  _ I have never felt this comfortable before, _ I think to myself.  _ I could get used to this… _


End file.
